Putting an End to the Dishcourse
by Legitly Spelunking
Summary: The fact that Victor never does the dishes seems to be an onrunning joke in the fandom which I find hilarious. Yuuri does not find this so amusing and struggles to come up with a way to get his fiance to do even a single sinkload.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** The fact that Victor never does the dishes seems to be an onrunning joke in the fandom which I find hilarious. Yuuri does not find this so amusing and struggles to come up with a way to get his fiance to do even a single sinkload.

* * *

 **Notes:**

I originally had a headcannon that Victor enjoys doing the dishes because he likes playing with the bubbles, and he always misses spots so Yuuri has to redo them but Victor is just so adorable that Yuuri doesn't care. However it seems everyone in the fandom is in agreement (which I find absolutely hilarious!) that Victor NEVER does the dishes.

So I instead came up with another headcannon that Yuuri tries many different ways to get him to do the dishes. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Yuuri wanted to scream. They still weren't done. They were just sitting there, in a pile on the counter, completely untouched. The same as when he had left the house. And where was Victor? He was laying on the couch with Makkachin, not a single care in the world, seemingly oblivious to the steam coming out of Yuuri's ears.

"Victor, sweety?" he seethed calmly.

"Yes Yuuri, my darling?" He looked up from his phone, not even flinching at the sight or tone of his finace.

"Why aren't the dishes done, again?"

"Oh, I forgot," Victor said innocently with his signature heart-shaped smile.

"Well, could you do them now?" Yuuri asked.

"I can't," he answered.

"Why not?"

"Makkachin."

"What _about_ Makkachin?"

"She won't let me."

"What do you _mean_ , she won't let you?"

"She's on top of me. I can't just get up, Yuuri. You know that. She's comfortable, and so am I."

"Victor…" Yuuri glowered in warning.

"I'll do them later."

Yuuri didn't feel like fighting, not that they ever really fought, but he didn't feel like wasting his energy when Victor clearly wasn't going to listen. He relented with a frustrated huff. "Fine, but I want them done soon. I need to cook super."

"Okay~" Victor chirped. He turned his attention towards Makkachin and gave her a scratch behind the ear and Yuuri could hear him whisper praise to the dog for getting him out of his chores.

"I mean it. I'm going to take a shower, and they better be at least started by the time I get out." Yuuri didn't wait for a response as he walked out of the room.

In all honesty, he was expecting too much out of Victor. In all of their months living together in St. Petersburg, he had never once seen his fiance do a single sink of dishes. Yuuri wondered if he ever had at all, and if he hadn't, how he managed to survive living on his own for so long. (Either with lots of takeout or he had a personal servant, he reasoned. Or maybe even both.) Regardless, this was getting ridiculous. Hell, even Yurio washed his own dishes on the occasion that he came over for meals. (" _I'm not doing it for you, it's just that I can do it myself and I don't want to have to owe you anything, so don't get the wrong idea,"_ the teen huffed whenever he did.) It's not that the Japanese man minded doing the dishes, he just wished his fiance would do his share from time to time. Victor did other chores like the laundry, sweeping, mopping and even cleaned the bathroom to name a few, but never the dishes.

And that didn't change when Yuuri emerged from his shower. Too exhausted from a long day of training and not feeling like conversing with a brick wall, he instead began to formulate a plan. A series of plans, actually. One way or another, Yuuri was going to get Victor to do the goddamn dishes.

* * *

The light sound of thumbs tapping on a touchscreen was all that could be heard in the room as Victor slept soundly next to a wide-awake Yuuri. The latter was on his phone, the light from the screen glinting off of his glasses, thumbs moving in a flurry as he scoured the internet. Another link, copy, and paste. Content with the number he had, he closed his digital memo pad and locked his phone, setting it down with his glasses on the bedside table. A yawn escaped his tired form as he felt the weight of staying up this late once again. While he was far from a stranger to sleep deprivation (what with his anxiety keeping him up until ungodly hours with endless self-depreciation and "what-ifs"), he would surely feel exhausted when he was roused by his alarm a mere 5 hours from now for practice. Despite the fact, Yuuri couldn't help but smile as he sunk into the cloud-like pillows and plush blankets and melted into the warm embrace of his fiance, his fiance who was part of the reason he was currently up so late. But the lack of sleep would soon be worth it. Yes, soon, it would all be worth it.

Unsurprisingly, Yuuri woke up feeling unrested, but taking a hot shower helped clear his senses and wake him up a bit. Victor went in for his own shortly after, and his singing could be heard over the sound of running water. It was the soundtrack to one of his older skating pieces, Yuuri recognized. While slightly off-key, the melody was music to his ears. As Yuuri ate his breakfast, he flipped back and forth through various apps on his phone, from games to social media to news before returning to his memo pad. He copied the multiple links from the night before and sent them in a message to Victor with the caption, "WATCH THEM" and practically stabbed the send button as he spared a glance towards the bathroom door. It remained closed, the man inside giving an encore performance to his earlier concert. While Yuuri wanted to wait for him and head to the rink together as they always did, he instead gathered his belongings and headed off ahead of Victor, planning to take advantage of the extra time from an earlier practice. But not before making a quick stop to the bookstore.

* * *

When Victor arrived at the rink, Yuuri was already on the ice. Not noticing his presence at first, he continued the section of the routine he was working on. He executed a mesmerizing step sequence followed by a flawless jump and a dizzying spin before the young skater was aware he had an audience. He continued on with his routine until Victor beckoned him to the side of the rink where he stood.

"What did you think? Was it alright? How was my free leg?" Yuuri asked when he made his way over. Ignoring his questions, Victor held up his cellular device and gave him a look of dissatisfaction.

"What is this?" he asked and Yuuri peered at the screen.

"A video," he replied. It was one he had found last night.

"'How to do the dishes,'" Victor read the title aloud, displeasure evident in his tone.

"Yes, that is the name of the video. I sent you the link."

"I know, along with like, 8 other ones, at least."

"Well, from what I've seen, you don't seem to know how to do the dishes, since I've never _once_ seen you touch a sinkload," Yuuri sassed.

"That's not true!" Victor countered and Yuuri huffed in disbelief at the blatant lie.

"Okay, maybe I don't do them _often_..."

He raised an eyebrow, calling him out.

"Okay, very rarely."

Yuuri continued to stare at him.

"Alright, yes, I've never done them when you asked me," his coach confessed, "but I still know how! I'm not that much of an idiot."

"I never said you were an idiot."

"Well you sure are making it seem like it," he pouted.

"I'd say you're more of a dummy," Yuuri retorted with a smirk before pushing off the wall to return to the ice leaving behind a perturbed Victor.

"Your free leg was dragging again!" he hollered after him.

* * *

Much to Victor's surprise, Yuuri took the two of them out to a fancy restaurant for supper following their practice. The older athlete, while undoubtedly pleased, secretly began to wonder if he had forgotten some important date, and the feeling was further intensified as Yuuri handed him a present. Victor's mind ran wild as he went through every significant date he had with Yuuri, making sure today was not one of them. When he confidently determined that there was no special occasion, he gratefully accepted the gift. It was long and flat, and also felt solid yet soft; definitely bendable.

"Aw, Yuuri, you shouldn't have," Victor said sweetly before tearing the wrapping apart. His expression fell when he saw what was inside. It was a softcover book. Normally Victor was quite fond of books, but this one in particular...

"You _really_ shouldn't have," he deadpanned and Yuuri chuckled dryly.

"You're right; I shouldn't have, because you should know how to do the damn dishes, Vitya."

"'Household Chores for Dummies'? I'm not a dummy, Yuuri," the gold medalist whined and suddenly realized with a pang of annoyance that Yuuri's earlier jab had been foreshadowing to this.

"Look, I even marked my favourite chapter," Yuuri said, ignoring him as he opened it up. There was a handcrafted bookmark with a poodle that resembled Makkachin tucked inside, and Victor couldn't help the small, tiny part of him that actually liked that part of the gift. That feeling immediately went away upon reading the page the bookmark was on.

"I told you, I _do_ know how to do the dishes," he grumbled.

"Could've fooled me," Yuuri quipped under his breath as he took a sip from his glass.

Victor scowled. "I just don't like to. I do lots of other chores. Why do I have to do the dishes on top of that?"

"We all have to do things we don't like. I do lots of other chores too, and _I_ still do the dishes."

"Well, you _like_ doing the dishes," the silver-haired man offered.

"And what makes you think that?" Yuuri asked, though regretted the words the second they left his mouth.

"Because you always do them."

Yuuri rested his head in his hands in exhausted disbelief.

"And what do you think would happen if I didn't? That the Dish Fairy would magically just show up at our house and do them?"

"Yes, Yurio would definitely do the dishes for us," Victor laughed at his own joke.

"He already does; more than you, and that says something," the Japanese man remarked.

"Yuuri…"

"At least tell me why you won't do them," he insisted.

"I just don't like to. I don't need a reason."

"Yes, but _I_ do."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm asking you."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to damage my nails," he said simply as he examined the tips of his elegant fingers. Yuuri blinked, gobsmacked. Of all of the answers Yuuri had expected, he had not seen this one coming. Although knowing Victor, maybe he should have.

"Manicures aren't cheap," he defended and moved his hand towards Yuuri's face to show him.

"They are if you're rich, and you are, Victor."

"Hey, you wanted a reason and I gave you one," he pointed out.

"Fine. Fair enough. Well drop the issue for now. I'll do the dishes so you won't damage your manicure, okay princess?" the young skater teased, taking his hand.

"Thank you, my prince," Victor grinned and Yuuri rolled his eyes with a smile.

* * *

True to his word, Yuuri did dishes the next time they piled up. He could never say no to Victor. If he didn't like to do the dishes, so what? He _did_ do other chores, so not doing one measly task shouldn't be too big of a deal, right? Yuuri stuck his hands into the soapy water and sighed, his breath causing some of the bubbles to float from the sink into a cluster onto the counter. _Bubbles…_ Yuuri thought as he observed the white fluff, and just like that a new idea formed in his head. A grin began to spread across his face as he remembered what a child his 28 year old fiance could be at times and decided it was worth a gamble. If this didn't work, nothing else would. He would try one last time.

Later that evening found Yuuri and Victor in bed together winding down from a long day. As the night drew closer, Victor put down the book he was reading and turned off the bedside lamp, snuggling close to Yuuri and giving him a kiss as he whispered goodnight in Russian. Yuuri returned the affections and put down his phone, deciding against the internet tonight. If he wanted his plan to work, a good night's sleep was a must, and he found it easily in the loving embrace of his fiance the moment he closed his eyes. When Victor stumbled into the kitchen the next morning drawn by the aroma of a surprise breakfast, Yuuri greeted him with a kiss and invited him to sit down and they enjoyed a quick meal of eggs, bacon, and toast with a glass of juice before getting ready to leave. There were chores to be done, but they were running late so they left them as they were and quickly headed out the door to the rink as Yuuri mentally checked a box off of the list he was keeping in his mind.

Yuuri asked to leave early that practice, stating he had some errands he needed to run. Victor tried to insist he go along with him, but Yuuri made some remark about Victor needing to work hard to defend and reclaim his title and how he needed extra practice, which both Yakov and Yurio echoed adamantly. Yuuri had already spoken to Yakov earlier that day and the man had approved of his plan and granted him permission to leave early. He admired the way the Japanese skater always worked hard in practice, unlike another one of his studentsーand he wasn't referring to the short teenager. With that, Yuuri grabbed his bag and mentally checked off another box as he walked out the door.

His errands brought him to the supermarket where he was successfully able to locate everything he needed thanks to his ever-improving skills in the Russian language. He even managed to hold a friendly conversation with the cashier at the checkout before he went on his way. Navigating the streets with ease, he soon returned home with a bag containing the bubbliest dish soap he could find, a brand new sponge, some rubber gloves, and a roll of cookie dough. Another box checked off. Victor still had another half hour or so left of training at the rink, and Yuuri got to work on the rest.

While waiting for the oven to preheat, he collected the dishes from breakfast and lightly rinsed them, making the already easy task even easier for his fiance before stacking them near the sink. The "stack" consisted only of the two plates, two cups and the utensils they had used for breakfast, since Yuuri had already cleaned everything he used to cook with as he prepared the meal that morning. He laid out the soap, sponge and gloves on the counter and moved on to his next task. Preparing the cookies, he rolled the premade dough into balls before placing them onto the cookie sheet (though not without snacking on some for himself. How could he resist?) and put it in the oven.

For his next step, he grabbed an assortment of stationery tools and sat down at the table and began to write a quick note on a piece of paper. Using every possible colour he could find, he filled it with doodles and covered it with hearts. He glanced at the time. 15 minutes left. The cookies were ready and he pulled them from the oven and let them cool (again grabbing one for himself and practically melting with pleasure as the warm sweetness washed over his tastebuds). He arranged the treats on a plate and set it on the table next to his masterpiece (which Victor was sure to frame), making sure both were in plain sight. Another task off of his list. Last came the most important part.

He turned on the tap and began to fill the sink with water. Grabbing the soap, he flipped the bottle upside down and watched as the liquid poured down in a steady stream near the base of the running water. Immediately the bubbles began to form, the white rising up higher and higher over the cavity of the sink until it reached just below Yuuri's chest. It was a ridiculous amount, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It was sure to catch Victor's attention. Satisfied, Yuuri submerged the few dishes and ensured the water was hot enough that it would still be warm when his fiance returned. He should be arriving in about 10 minutes. Everything on his mental checklist was done; all of the pieces were in place. All he had to do now was wait.

* * *

The unmistakable jingle of keys followed by the click of the lock alerted Yuuri to Victor's arrival.

"Yuuri, I'm home!" Victor sang out as he walked in, but Yuuri said nothing. He remained hidden, having made sure to erase any evidence of his presence in the house except the ones he had prepared in advance.

"Yuuri?" Victor called out again. He walked around in search of him and stopped when he reached the kitchen. Spotting the cookies on the plate, he picked one up and put it in his mouth without hesitation as he read the note Yuuri had left him. "Some sweets for my sweet! I'll be back soon. I love you," it read. He saw Victor smile as he took another bite of the treat and munched on it happily. Then he turned and saw the sink. His eyes widened and he dropped the cookie he was holding in shock, or maybe it was awe, as he crept towards it.

"That's a lot of bubbles," Yuuri heard him say, and he certainly wasn't wrong. He had made sure to add a copious amount of soap to ensure this plan would work, and Yuuri felt himself clinging to the hope that it just might. Victor suspiciously looked left then right, eyes darting to see if anyone was watching. Assured that he was alone, he turned back to the mound in front of him and slowly brought a finger towards it. It made contact and when he pulled it back, a small amount had stuck to the tip. He brought it close to his lips and blew and the white fluff floated up into the air then back down onto the ground. Victor giggled. The man _giggled_ , and Yuuri fought to hide his own laughter, so help Victor found him. This was definitely the right way to go about this plan. The question was would it work?

Victor grabbed a larger amount of the foam, grinning as he held it in the palm of his hand. With an exhale, it was released into the air and Victor's laugh echoed. He reached into the sink again, scooping up the white with both hands this time before throwing his arms into the air and letting it fly as he cheered, "Bubbles!" He of course was wearing his heart-shaped grin and Yuuri covered his mouth with a hand and snickered as he watched the scene unfold. What a man-child. His 28 year old fiance, a many-time world champion figure skater, playing with bubbles instead of doing the dishes. Mind you, this was part of the plan. He only hoped that the rest would work out as well.

He got his wish when Victor paused in the midst of his festivities as some of the bubbles landed onto the counter near the products Yuuri had set up earlier. The Japanese man held his breath as ocean eyes switched back and forth between the sink and the tools, calculating, before falling on the plate of cookies and the note Yuuri had left him. His gaze continued to rest there for a long moment in deep contemplation. And then.

 _And then._

Victor reached for the gloves and put them on.

Yuuri felt his heart stop as he took it all in. He grabbed the sponge, added some soap and dipped it into the water. Hesitating for only a moment, he reached a gloved hand into the sink and pulled out a plate before wiping it clean and placing it in the neighbouring sink to be rinsed.

He couldn't believe it. Victor was finally, _finally_ , doing the dishes. And Yuuri was witnessing it with his own eyes. History has been made this very day, he thought to himself, and considered taking a photo and uploading it to Instagram with that very caption. There were small piles of bubbles all over the counter, some on Victor's clothes and in his silver hair as well, and he was continuing to play with the larger pile in the sink as he cleaned. Yuuri couldn't help himself. He threw caution to the wind as he pulled out his phone. Making sure it was on silent, he took a stealthy photo and tagged it before sneaking back out of the house. His work here was done.

* * *

Yuuri returned home after about half an hour, giving more than enough time for Victor to finish. When he opened the door, he was reminded of the scene he had walked into a few days earlier. Victor was lounging on the couch with Makkachin, phone in hand and he glanced up as Yuuri walked in. However unlike that day, there was no mess in the kitchen. Well, that's not totally true. The dishes may have been done, but there were still traces of bubbles all over the counter and some on the floor too. At least he had made somewhat of an effort.

"What happened in here?" Yuuri asked, referring to the mess and at the same time faking shock at the fact that the dishes were actually done. Victor got up from the couch and met Yuuri in the kitchen.

"I cleaned up from breakfast."

"Yes, you did," he replied.

"And I did the dishes!"

"Yes, you did!" he exclaimed, acting more surprised than he felt as he noticed them drying on the rack. Yuuri happily gave him a quick kiss. "I'm so proud of you! I didn't even have to ask! You did it all by yourself!"

"Uh huh. Sure. All by myself," Victor said in a flat tone, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "No prodding required. No traps or planning of any kind involved on the part of my lovely fiance."

"Whatever could you mean?" said fiance played along coyly.

"The note and cookies were a sweet gesture, and of course the bubbles had me hook, line and sinker. I knew it was a trap, but I love you too much to refuse such a simple task." he admitted with a sweet smile. "But you uploaded the photo to Instagram. And you _tagged_ me in it, so don't act like you had nothing to do with it."

"Ha ha, whoops," Yuuri sweatdropped.

"But if it really means that much to you that you'd go through all of this trouble, maybe I wouldn't be _too_ terribly opposed to the idea of doing a sink load every so often," he relinquished, speaking the words slowly as if it pained him.

" _Yes! Plan successful!"_ Yuuri thought to himself.

"But then I want cookies," Victor added firmly.

"Deal."

Satisfied, Victor walked back to the couch, grabbing another cookie from the plate on the way and Yuuri observed the note next to it was missing. As if reading his mind, Victor spoke up from the livingroom.

"I put the note on my bedside table so I can see it everyday when I go to bed and wake up and be reminded of how much you love me." Yuuri wanted to protest that they sleep together now so he could hear it from the real thing, but then Victor spoke again. "But once I get a frame, it's going on the wall."

" _Yup, called it. Plan definitely successful,"_ Yuuri thought. With a smile, he grabbed a cloth and began cleaning up Victor's mess. But it was worth it. It was definitely worth it.

* * *

 **Notes:**

Some domestic humour for all of my lovely readers! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! There will be one more uploaded next week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:**

So when I said I "came up" with this headcannon, I was more accurately hit out of the blue by a fucking FREIGHT TRAIN. I dropped what I was doing (which coincidentally was the dishes), sat down and couldn't stop writing. I figured having it all as one chapter would be too long, so this is my first multi-chapter fic! Yay! Enjoy chapter two!

* * *

Yuuri wanted to sing. He was over the moon with happiness. He hadn't touched a sink of dishes in a whole week now. After the success of his little plan, Victor had taken over and _willing volunteered_ to do them, pushed by the promise of bubbles and requesting only a sweet treat as a reward. He continued to make a mess, but Yuuri honestly could not care less. So long as Victor did the dishes, Yuuri had no complaints. At least at first.

Yuuri was setting the table for breakfast one morning when he pulled a plate from the cupboard. He didn't notice until he placed it down on the table, but there was a piece of food still stuck to the edge. It was nothing he couldn't remove with a quick scratch of his thumbnail, so just like that it was forgotten. It wasn't a big deal, so he didn't bring it up with Victor when he joined his fiance for their meal.

"So I invited Yurio over for supper tomorrow," Victor said as they ate.

"Oh, really? What did he say?"

"He said yes, in his own Yurio way. You know how it is," he laughed and Yuuri did too.

"Great! What should I make?" Yuuri asked.

"Whatever you like. I'm sure it will taste amazing either way," Victor complimented.

As Yuuri took a sip from his glass of juice, he couldn't help but notice it tasted a bit off. His face scrunched up in distaste and he put the glass down.

"What's wrong?" Victor asked.

"Just tastes a little weird. I bought it recently so I know it's not expired, but still..."

Victor took a swig from his own glass without so much as blinking. "Tastes fine to me," he said with a shrug

"Maybe it's just me then," Yuuri said. He took another sip and got the same result. Maybe he just didn't like the flavour. He'd have to buy a different type from now own. Although he never had a problem with this particular juice before...

* * *

When Yuuri was setting the table for supper that same night, he experienced a scenario similar to the one he encountered that morning as his fingers brushed against something dry and crusty. Yuuri pulled the plate from the cupboard and found another piece of food stuck to it. Fighting a sigh, he scraped it off again, finding it more difficult than the last time. As much as Yuuri hated to admit it, maybe having Victor do the dishes wasn't the best option. While it was nice to finally get a break from the chore, at this rate Yuuri would end up having to redo it all anyway, thus defeating the original point of having his fiance do it. Plus, whenever Victor _did_ do the dishes, he always made a mess with the bubbles. And now Yurio was coming over for supper tomorrow. What would he think if the dishes weren't done properly and he found a speck on his plate? He surely wouldn't let them hear the end of it, so Yuuri needed to make sure that wouldn't happen.

Putting his happiness aside, Yuuri decided he would have to do the dishes that night and the next morning. If asked, it was because Victor deserved a break. Victor had been doing the dishes for the last couple of days so now it's his turn to return the favour, the ravenette would say, and Victor would squeeze him and tell him how sweet and considerate he was and gush about how lucky he was to have Yuuri in his life. In reality, Yuuri just didn't want to get an earful from the Russian Punk for not having clean dishes. And so, the next morning, just to be sure everything was properly cleaned, he sifted through the cupboard and managed to find _even more_ dirty dishes. At the discovery, he found himself considering resending those videos he had previously messaged to Victor. Or maybe he should read aloud the book he gifted to him as a bedtime story. Yuuri didn't think he would be too opposed to the latter.

Fast forward to that evening and finally it was time. All of the preparations were complete. Yuuri had prepared supper for the three of them and had ensured that every dish in the household was absolutely spotless, so he had little worries as they sat down and enjoyed their meal. He had decided to try his hand at making borscht to surprise Victor, and also to appeal to the young teen as well. The flavours, while strong and foreign, danced pleasantly on Yuuri's tongue. He had found a recipe on the internet, but other than that he had little experience with the dish, or much of Russia's cuisine for that matter. He wasn't a bad cook (he had learned much of the basics working at his family's inn), but he just hoped it was to their tastes. Much to his relief, Victor's praise was unending, as was Yuri's complaints about said praise, though he did seem to enjoy the food as well. Yuuri was happy. It look like dinner went off without a hitch.

His thoughts were unpleasantly interrupted by the sound of an abrupt spit take.

"What the hell is this? It tastes like shit!" Yuri spat as he held up his glass and glared at it. Victor gasped, offended.

"Yurio! Watch your language! And don't be rude!" he scolded him.

"That's not my name!" the teen snapped back.

"If you don't like something, you can keep it to yourself," Victor parented him.

"It's not that I don't like the drink, it just tastes…" Yuri paused, trying to select the best description. "Just gross. Like soap," he said. His face scrunched up in disgust and he stuck out his tongue.

Victor was saying something back as the two bickered but Yuuri was no longer listening. He became lost in his thoughts as he suddenly remember back to the breakfast he and Victor had shared yesterday and the funny taste he detected in his own glass. He also then remembered doing the dishes that morning and noting absentmindedly that the bottle of soap was already half empty, despite having bought it just days ago. Add on to that the reason why Victor always made a ridiculous mess when doing the dishes and the gears began to turn. Hearing the strange taste detected from a third party, Yuuri put two and two together and stood as he slammed his hands down on the table at the sudden realization. The two Russians stopped in their argument and turned to face him.

"Dammit Vitya, this is all your fault!" Yuuri shouted, more in irritation than actual anger. "You used too much soap when doing the dishes, just so you could play with the bubbles, and now everything tastes like soap!" Victor blinked, taken aback by the unexpected outburst, but Yuuri wasn't finished. "And you were too busy being a five year old to even double check to see if you missed a spot, whichーnewsflash!ーyou did. A lot. The only reason I decided to do the dishes last night and this morning was so Yurio wouldn't accidentally find he was eating on a dirty plate."

"That's not my name!" the blond interjected again before turning to Victor. "Now what was that about bubbles?" he sneered condescendingly.

"I swear, if I ever want you to do the dishes, it's like I'll have to supervise you or something!" Yuuri threw his hands in the air in exasperation as he continued to rant. He paused, then spoke again. "You know what, I'm doing it. Victor, you're on the dishes tonight, and I'm going to be watchingーthe whole timeーto make sure they're done properly. And that means no bubbles." Yuuri ordered.

"Yuuriiii," Victor whined, dragging out the syllables like the child Yuuri would argue he was.

"No complaining. Now eat your supper," Yuuri said as he sat back down and took a bite of his own. "And drink your juice." He eyed Victor and smirked at his misery as he warily picked up the cup and took a small sip before putting it down with a face mirroring the one Yurio had worn.

* * *

After dinner found Yurio doing his own thing in their apartmentーprobably messaging that boy from Kazakhstan, Victor suggested teasinglyーas he and Yuuri stood side by side in front of the twin sinks per the younger of the two's earlier demand. Yuuri continued to watch Victor and the silver-haired man felt self-conscious under his critical gaze.

"Stop critiquing me on my technique. For the last time, I _know_ how to do the dishes," he grumbled.

"I'm not critiquing your technique. You can wash them however you like, I just want them done properly," Yuuri replied. "You can even play with the bubbles for all I care."

"What bubbles?" Victor gestured at what little Yuuri had allowed in the sink. He scooped some up and blew them in his direction where they landed on his glasses causing the young skater to scowl. "You're no fun," Victor muttered as he crossed his arms. He unfolded them quickly with a yelp a moment later as he felt the water from his rubber gloves soak into the fabric of his shirt leaving a darkened spot that clung to his skin.

"Ha! That's what you get. Now do your chores. You got a long way to go," Yuuri said.

With a disappointed sigh, Victor dunked his hands back into the water and scrubbed at a plate before handing it to Yuuri. The ravenette took it and turned it over, inspecting it with utmost scrutiny, and when he was satisfied it was properly washed, he moved it under the tap to be rinsed. Victor submerged his hands in the water again as Yuuri turned away towards the drying rack. Observing his back to him, Victor gave a devious smirk and quickly withdrew his wet hands and wrapped them around Yuuri's middle in a surprise hug from behind. At the unexpected contact, the man jumped and nearly dropped the dish he was holding but miraculously managed not to as he felt the liquid absorb into his shirt. He placed the dish down before turning to face Victor accusingly when his vision was suddenly obscured by more bubbles. Yuuri's earlier scowl returned with a vengeance and Victor giggled.

"Look, now we're even!" Victor chirped happily, pulling at his also wet shirt in demonstration, making it even _more_ wet.

"Oh, I'll show you even," Yuuri said before splashing Victor with water from the sink. The older man jumped back with a gasp, though not before being hit by the wave. He was quick to douse Yuuri with a wave of his own in retaliation.

"Really?" Yuuri gasped with a laugh as he looked down at his wet clothes.

"Well, you started it!"

"No, _you_ started it when you grabbed me!"

"I guess we'll have to settle this another way." Victor suggested.

"What-" Yuuri started to question but was cut off as he was covered with water again.

All Yuuri wanted was for his fiance to do the dishes. But no. He couldn't have that, could he? He was stuck with a dork who thought it was absolutely hilarious to have a war with water instead of being a decent house spouse. Well, if it was a war he wanted, it was a war he would get. Yuuri pushed his now-soaked hair out of his eyes and sent a mischievous grin at Victor, accepting the challenge.

"Oh, it is _on!_ "

* * *

Needless to say, the dishes did not get done, and when Yurio walked in 20 minutes later in search of a snack, the kitchen was an absolute disaster. There was a grand total of 6 items on the rack with a larger stack of pots and pans still to be washed. A sponge and a pair of rubber gloves were tossed on the floor, and with the amount of water everywhere and how soaked the two men were, one would think a hurricane had passed through the apartment.

"What the hell happened in here?" Yurio demanded, though something in the back of his mind screamed that he didn't want to know. The two adults stopped in their game to regard him, then the mess, then each other and they broke out into a fit of laughter.

"We're cleaning," Yuuri answered once he managed to compose himself.

"Well you're doing a shit job," the blond rebuked.

Yuuri rubbed a hand behind his head. "We got a bit distracted."

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Oh! Yuuri, you got a bit of bubbles on your nose. Here, let me," Victor said as he leaned in to kiss the tip where the white fluff had stuck. He was rewarded with a light blush and a smile from his fiance, and a sound of disgust from Yuri.

"Ew, gross you two! Wait until I'm gone to do that kind of stuff," he scoffed as he made for the door, letting it swing shut with a slam as he left.

They watched him leave, Yuuri's eyes then drifting to the table where he noted Yurio had for once left his dirty dish. He walked over, picked it up and placed it on the counter with the rest, of which there was a lot. He turned on the tap again to refill the sink which had been made empty by their shenanigans when an upside down bottle of soap was suddenly held in front of him by Victor who hummed happily as he watched the bubbles form.

"Victor, not too much," Yuuri chastised him. He grabbed his hand and flipped the bottle so it was right side up. "We've made enough of a mess already."

"You're no fun, Yuuri," Victor pouted.

"You know that's not true."

"Oh, do I now?" he flirted.

Yuuri scooped a tiny amount of bubbles on his finger and flicked it onto Victor's forehead, now more exposed from the way his hair had been disheveled from the water fight. The white stuck there and Yuuri stood on his tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on the spot they landed before moving one to his lips.

"You tell me," he teased back with a smile.

Yuuri snatched the bottle from a distracted Victor and put it under the sink so he wouldn't get any other ideas and grabbed a cloth to clean the pools of water on the counter.

"Come on, we still got a lot to do!" Yuuri ordered. He playfully whipped Victor with the cloth, and he quickly got back to work.

"You know, I could get used to doing the dishes if your were always here right next to me," Victor offered as he cleaned. "I'll try and make less of a mess, and use less soap. I enjoy spending time with you."

"I think I'd like that," Yuuri agreed wholeheartedly to each point.

"Great! So from now on, no more assigning the dishes then. We'll do them together," Victor declared.

"Together," Yuuri echoed.

Yuuri interlaced their fingers and leaned in for another kiss, longer and more affectionate than the previous one. When they separated, Yuuri felt something rather sharp scrape him and he winced. He stared at his hand and a thin white line could be seen where he had been scratched. He looked to Victor and saw him staring at his own hand as if in mourning. He shoved it in Yuuri's face and the younger man saw why.

"I told you; this is why I don't do the dishes," Victor moped. As he brought his hand back and cradled the broken nail like a fatal wound, Yuuri couldn't help but laugh. He bent over and picked up the rubber gloves that had been discarded during their splash fight and handed it to Victor who accepted it gratefully, and the two happily worked together to finish the rest of the dishes.

* * *

 **Notes:**

I hope the second chapter was to your liking! The whole time writing it, I was torn between wanting to edit it to make it better and worrying that I'm over-editing. I'm still a new writer, so there's still a lot I don't know and want to learn. I think having a beta reader would probably help, but I haven't the slightest idea how to get started. Send me a comment or message if you're able to help me out; I'd really appreciate it! Also I have tumblr (same username, one word) if that works better, or if you just want to drop by and say hi!

I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! This was one of those fics where one idea leads to another and it just writes itself and I'm just so happy. I love writing for those moments. As always, thanks for reading, and please leave a review! Even just one word makes my day!


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